Rogue Angel
by 20Waffles20
Summary: The Doctor, and his companions, make an unscheduled stop at the BAU. Set anywhere between series 5-7 of DW and 3-7 of CM.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first attempt at any kind of creative writing. I'm looking for feedback here, and constructive criticism of any kind is welcome. Whether it be which way you think the story should go, or even grammar notes. Just leave me a quick review, and I'd appreciate it greatly.**

_ The silent air in the cabin burst into an earsplitting crack of thunder. Seconds ago, they were having a seemingly normal conversation about their plans for the evening; now, the atmosphere was hectic. The pilot raced to gain control of their trajectory, but alas his ministrations were to no avail. They landed hard, and the occupants were violently thrown to the floor._

Quantico, Virginia: FBI Building

"It's getting late," Reid looked around to the worn-out faces of his coworkers. "If the UnSub sticks to his current, ramped-up, time-table, we can expect another missing persons report in the morning." Though none of the agents wanted to admit to the accuracy of his statement, they were resigned to it.

"Reid's right," Hotch interjected. "All of you go home and get some rest. We'll pick it back up in the morning."

They all, begrudgingly, packed up their things. Just as the agents were headed to the elevators, they collectively heard a strange noise. It started as a soft rumble, a peculiar hum. No one spoke; their feet were cemented in place. The noise grew, and pulsated wildly. The group instinctually reached for their service weapons as the once chaotically organized bullpen was upheaved by a sudden torrent of wind, and the sound culminated in a resounding metallic thud.

As they eyed their surroundings, they couldn't miss the oversized brilliant blue police box.

Though they were for the most part people of action, the most action they could manage in that moment was the curious look adorning their faces.

Prentiss was the first to somewhat recover from her state of shock and voiced her curiosity with a quiet, "What the hell?" She moved cautiously toward the foreign object, gun trained steadily on the double doors. Her movement drew Derek into action, and he swiftly joined her side.

The two of them did a cursory scan of the perimeter of the strange box. One of them walking on either side; then peering around the backside at each other. Satisfied there was no escape route, the two quickly returned to their posts on either side of the front of the box.

They looked back to their slowly advancing superior in question. His only answer was a miniscule shrug of the shoulders. Morgan took the initiative and brought his hand up to open the door. He gently pulled, but got no result. He then pushed, earning the same outcome.

Spencer Reid was beside himself. He holds PhD's in Mathematics, Chemistry, Engineering and has an advanced understanding of Physics, yet he was completely bewildered. All he could do was continuously open and close his mouth. Had Morgan and Prentiss not been equally baffled, one of them might have made a crack at the young genius for being rendered utterly speechless.

Spencer was mulling over possibilities and outlandish theories in his head. After a few moments, and after regaining his faculties, he joined his team by the police box. To his surprise, he'd been so deep in thought, Garcia had beaten him to it. His friends were throwing ideas out left and right in search of an explanation of the box's sudden appearance.

"What is it?" JJ asked the question on everyone's mind.

"It's a 'Police Public Call Box'." Rossi pointed to the words scribed above the doors, earning an annoyed glare from the blonde.

"In 1929 a man, named Gilbert Mackenzie Trench, designed them." All eyes went to the young doctor. "They were made for use by the Metropolitan Police of London, or by the general public." Reid began to examine the object; "It served as a source of communication by officers on duty, or as a temporary holding cell for suspected criminals. Either an officer or a citizen could put the miscreant inside, and then," he pulled open the door to the small compartment concealed in the left door, "they would pick up the phone, that was directly linked to the local police station, and call it in." He picked the phone up, examined it, and put it back. "It's essentially a telephone kiosk for contacting the police."

"That explains it all then," Emily dryly commented.

Morgan had enough talk and decided he'd do what he does best. He stood directly in front of the right door and angled his right side away from the box. He reared up his leg, and brought it to the door with full force. He proceeded to let out an exaggerated cry of pain as his boot connected with the wood.

_An almighty thump reverberated around the control room._

_ As Amy and Rory were composing themselves, the Doctor was quick to act. He was finishing his assessment at the monitor when a rather angry Scottish voice broke into his thought process. "This is **NOT **Hawaii," she practically shouted as she scowled over his shoulder at the men and women inspecting the TARDIS. _

_ "Uh… I don't know where we are, but I do know that they have guns. So, I vote we throw her in reverse, and leave cautiously." Rory offered his plan of action, but at the Doctor's silence added, "but I'm guessing that's not an option because really, it never is." In response, the Doctor turned to the couple, put a hand on the side of each of their faces, smiled broadly and sauntered toward the exit. "Great," was all Rory could manage as the two pivoted to follow their companion. _

"Aaron, what's Strauss going to do about it?" Rossi asked as he knocked on the side of the box with his free hand.

"Honestly? I don't know, Dave. Someone needs to be informed, I'm just not sure who to call." Hotch had his phone in his hand and as he scanned his team added, "I'm open to suggestions?"

It was then that the right door of the police box pulled in quickly, but only slightly, and a man peered around the left door. He made his presence known by clearing his throat, and then continued; "Now **THAT**,is what I like to hear!" All of the agents simultaneously took aim at the man, they were however, too stunned to shout commands. The Doctor's hands slowly appeared on either side of his face from behind the left door as he hesitantly rambled, "Because, generally, I'm full of suggestions… ideas… I'm helpful that way… a problem solver… a helpful problem solver." He finished cheerfully, bobbing his head from side to side.

Morgan placed himself in front of Garcia and then promptly shouted, "Keep your hands where we can see them, and slowly exit the box!" The Doctor complied and shuffled out, straightening up as he exited. Derek didn't give him time to fully remove himself before he was on him. Surprised by the agent's quickness, the Doctor was unable to shut the door of the TARDIS. Morgan was bracing the door open with his right shoulder, left hand firmly grasping the other man's collar. "Prentiss, take this guy!"

Emily, looking to Rossi, holstered her weapon and closed the distance between her and the strange man. She roughly grabbed his upper, right arm and guided him toward the nearest desk. As she cuffed him, and stood him back up, the others refocused their attention on Derek and the box.

"Wait!" Just as he was about to push the door open, and clear the small space, the man Emily had in custody called out. Morgan hesitated, and Rossi turned to the man. "It's just that my friends are in there… they are not armed, well, at least not with guns. That, I can guarantee because I am rather not fond of them." Dave looked back to Morgan who returned a slight nod.

"This is Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit! Your friend seems to want this to go well since he decided to let us know that you were in there! The best course of action here would be for you to put your hands above your heads, and let my partner open that door!" Silence reigned over the bullpen for what seemed like an eternity. "Also, a reply of some sort could be beneficial!" Dave finished up with a slight smirk.

"Right, we're uh… unarmed?!" Amy answered with a questioning shrug to Rory.

Hotch moved up to the left door, and he and Morgan shared a silent count before slowly pushing in.

They were both taken aback by the size of the space within the box. After a slight hesitation, they entered and made for the two people standing in the center of the room. At the same time, Spencer and JJ moved forward to fill the empty posts left by the two men. As Hotch and Morgan exited, each with their own cuffed individual. They couldn't help but look over their shoulders in astonishment at the box.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, here's chapter two! I believe it's shorter, but hopefully just as good. *S.I.S. = Secret Intelligence Service and *M.I.6= Military Intelligence, Section 6**

**Disclaimer: This goes for the entire story. I own neither Doctor Who, nor Criminal Minds. Anything related to either show belongs to the creators, respectively.**

After forcibly removing the man and woman from the inside of the blue box that now stood between the mass of desks in the bullpen, the agents abruptly segregated them. Hotch took the man to his office. He sat him in a chair that was located in the front of his desk, and removed one restraint. Getting a good look at his prisoner, he decided "boy" was more fitting. He weaved the dangling cuff through the left arm of the chair, and fastened it around the boy's left wrist; effectively securing him to the seat.

* * *

This was not what she had in mind for a vacation. After traveling with the Doctor for a few years though, Amy had found that she rarely got what she expected. However, on a scale of 1-10, being quarantined in some G-man's office rated mid-way. "At least the guy has taste," she muttered, taking in her surroundings.

* * *

"Your name is?" The Doctor's jaw uncontrollably tightened as he addressed the woman next to him.

She looked down to him as he was situated at her desk. Her pride may have been a tad damaged by the fact that this man, and his apparent lackeys, had not only broken in to the F.B.I. building, but had also managed to bring in a giant "telephone kiosk". "Agent," she retorted curtly. "And yours?"

He swallowed hard, knowing that his response would not be received well. "Doctor," he provided rather sheepishly.

"Do you _seriously _want to play games with me right now?" Her incredulous tone put a slight fear in him, one that he hadn't felt for ages. The icy scowl she had fixed on him didn't do much for his un-comfortableness either. "Right now, we've got you for breaking and entering into a secured federal building. The more difficult you make this for us, the worse it's going to turn out for you."

He let out a gasp of air, tinged with the tiniest bit of laughter. "I can explain."

* * *

Hotch and Derek had returned. They joined the others, sans Emily, and began to go over what they knew. "There's no way it was just concealed there," Morgan spoke animatedly as he indicated the area where the box now was, "I saw ten people walk through there today."

"Well we've been here since eight o'clock this morning, one of us at least, the whole time. Don't you think we would have noticed someone dragging that thing in here?" JJ didn't have a solution, but she was able to eliminate one possibility.

"Guys," Reid waited until he held their attention. "That sound," he trailed off, returning to the earlier scene. "It sounded almost like an engine."

"It sounded more like an asthmatic marathon runner to me." Prentiss rejoined the group with her detainee in tow. The Doctor was visibly saddened by her derisive remark.

Hotch elevated his brow in question, "anything?"

Emily produced a small leather billfold, but the man in her hold spoke. "S.I.S. Agent John Smith," he said with a cheeky grin.

She gave him a stern once over, to let him know that she was in control here. Then she directed herself to Hotch, "That's not the first M.I.6 badge I've seen, it's legitimate."

Her confidence faltered and turned to confusion as she studied her boss' reaction. He examined the badge for a fleeting moment, and then spoke. "Prentiss," he paused, and stole another quick glance, "This is a blank piece of paper bound in leather."

She beheld his serious expression for an instant. "But," she grabbed the item from his hand and thoroughly scrutinized it.

"Right then, doesn't _always _work." The very tall, and now very nervous, man teetered back and forth on his feet.

"I want some answers, now." Hotch was beginning to lose his patience. "Or, you and your friends are going to have an exceedingly long night ahead of you."

The Doctor bowed his head slightly, in defeat, and then looked the other man directly in the eye. He didn't know why he was here, but he could tell that these people weren't going to settle for his typical shenanigans. "Where would you like to begin?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter 3! I hope you all enjoy! I had a bit of a typo in the last paragraph of chapter 2, which has been fixed. Just to clarify, the Doctor was the one to ask, "Where would you like to begin?"**

"A name," Prentiss speedily supplied the first query.

"Doctor," was the short answer. "And those are Amelia and Rory," he pointed over his shoulder.

"That's a title, not a name. I'm _Doctor _Spencer Reid."

"Well it's nice to meet you Dr. Spencer Reid," he began again, "they call me _the_ Doctor."

"Who's 'they'?" Spencer inquired.

"Everyone," he said simply. "Even if you had my name, you wouldn't be able to pronounce it. What's next?" In concert, the group decided that there were more pressing matters at hand. Agent Hotchner walked over to the police box and leaned against it. "Ah, that." He furrowed his brow, playing into their curiosity, and then beamed with satisfaction. "_That _is a TT, Type 40, Mark 3 TARDIS. Or, as I like to call her, Sexy." He received a narrowing of the eyes from the severe man next to his beloved box. "Time And Relative Dimension In Space. I believe most humans would use the term 'spaceship'."

"And you're not," the words poured from JJ's mouth. "Human, that is."

"Time Lord," was all he provided. This particular band of people appeared to be fairly open-minded, granted they had a spaceship/time machine sitting in front of them.

"You're saying that you… _landed_ a… _spaceship_in the middle of the B.A.U.?" The skepticism was plain in Rossi's baritone voice.

The Doctor's face twisted into a grimace, but Spencer jumped in before he had the chance to correct the other man. "It's not _just _a spaceship. According to its name, it also possesses the ability to travel through time." He briskly strode toward the object in question, with newly invigorated inquisitiveness. "It _was _an engine. Some type of enhanced thruster I'd imagine."

It was the Doctor's turn to narrow his eyes, in inspection. He raised his hands to the one called Rossi, nonverbally seeking to be unchained, never relenting from his visual perusal of the young man. Dave made a show of peering at the man's hands. He then swiftly brushed passed him and joined Reid. The Doctor was beyond disappointed. Normally, he would get a stammered, "you're a… an ALIEN?!" These people were calm, and eerily composed. They seemed to be focusing on the reaction of their colleague, the one that had piqued his own interest.

The agents, the Doctor and Garcia, filed into the TARDIS. The Doctor gazed scrupulously at this Dr. Reid in the center of his control room. His eyes were wide, and his jaw sagging. The others had spread out. He heard astounded utterings of the sheer vastness of that single room, and even more so when they discovered the expanse of corridors that looked to be endless. He was drawn from his amused reverie when the boy finally spoke. "You've somehow managed to obscure a large craft by overlaying a smaller object in the same dimension. I mean, I see how it _could _be plausible, but your peoples' culture must be millennia ahead of our own."

"I'm impressed," the Doctor walked up behind the intelligent man. "Usually, all I get is, 'it's bigger on the inside.' Trust me, it's not as disappointing as it sounds. We like to call this," he swung his hands about to indicate the ship in its entirety, "trans dimensional engineering."

"It goes directly against the Pauli Exclusion Principle." Spencer ran his hand along one of the structural supports; an effort to ground himself, as much as possible, as his mind did somersaults. "It's brilliant."

"I'd wager to say that _you're _quite brilliant." The Doctor nudged him softly with his elbow. "You don't show signs of being shocked at all, merely pleased with the new information. You know, if you'd like, I could show you to the librar…"

"My question's still valid," Rossi interrupted. "You can travel through all of time and space, why come here?" This man was relentlessly unaffected by the goings on.

"Yes. Well, we have a small issue with her short-range guidance system. I don't always end up exactly where I want to be, but I get where I need to go." He explained while lovingly caressing the console. No one brought awareness to the fact that the console was jerry rigged with what one could only classify as 'miscellaneous junk'.

"And this?" Prentiss held up the leather billfold.

"A bit of psychic paper I'm afraid." His words held a sincere, apologetic tone.

"Meaning, the observer sees whatever you want them to?"

"Meaning, they see whatever it is that they need to see. Or, in some cases," the Doctor focused on Hotch, "nothing at all. That's enough about me though, and I've grown quite bored of these?" He clanked the metal restraints together, and then went to retrieve something from his inner jacket. Pulling out the cylindrical device, he noted the puzzled expression Emily wore. She was, no doubt, trying to figure out how she had overlooked it when she'd searched him. "Pockets are bigger on the inside as well," he supplied, suggestively raising his eyebrows. He adjusted the dial, and then pressed a button. There was a miniscule burst of sound accompanied by a strange vibrato, and the handcuffs dropped to the floor.

* * *

After a rapid conversation with Spencer about the properties of his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor assessed his priorities, and departed from the TARDIS. He immediately went for the office that contained Amy. "It's about time," she chastised. The agents weren't entirely sure of what was happening, but these people were not threatening. Morgan made a detour to collect the man from Hotch's office before entering Rossi's with the rest of the party. "Nice painting." Amy indicated the framed artwork on the wall, "who does it belong to?" Dave raised his hand, and lowered his head in answer.

"Nice indeed," the Doctor put a great deal of effort into annunciating the latter word. He leaned in, nose grazing the glass, studying individual brush strokes. "15th century, Italian. I'd say Serafino Serafini." He squinted, speculatively, and shouted before anyone could speak. "Wait! It's actually Paolo Serafini. Father and son, quite similar styles."

"Expertly deduced," came Rossi's awe-struck voice. "I know art professors that can't spot the difference."

"Well, in all fairness," the Doctor jammed his hands into their respective pockets, "I can still make out the edge of my shoeprint. Paolo wasn't very pleased about that, I am glad he managed to salvage it though." The agents eyed one another, slightly put off by the summation of what this man had just said. "Right," the strange man clasped his hands together in a swift motion. "What are we doing here?"

"Are you kidding me?" Derek _was _notoriously short tempered. "That's what we've been trying to figure out for the past hour," he contended sternly, gesturing to his colleagues.

"Ah, of course." The Doctor led the way back into the main room. The fast-paced walking didn't stop Dave from taking a moment to examine his painting before catching up to the group. "Is one of you frightened of something?" He took in their bemused expressions and progressed. "Are there any children nearby, possibly in mortal danger?" He received multiple shaking heads. "Perhaps a threat to mankind's very existence?" This was yielding no useful information, so he decided to forgo this particular line of questioning. He began another, "what is it that you lot do here?"

Aaron Hotchner relented to the man, "we profile depraved individuals. We fly around the country, sometimes other countries, and assist the locals in finding and apprehending criminals."

"Interesting," the man had one arm folded across his chest, the digits at the end of the other lightly tapped against his chin. "And I suppose you all are in the middle of a distinctively brutal, or challenging case?"

Spencer had finally recovered from the information overload, "why do you ask?"

"Like I said, the short-range guidance system is a bit wonky. Sometimes the TARDIS follows psychic distress signals." He explained rather abruptly, already preoccupied. "Now, let's get into the details of this case, shall we."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I do apologize for the lack of updates on this story. I got a little sidetracked on another one. Also, I like this one far too much to post anything that I don't thoroughly enjoy myself.**

"We're not discussing an on-going investigation with you." Hotch was shaking his head in absolute disbelief of the notion. "We don't even know who or… what you are for that matter." It was more than a little unsettling to hear a man like Aaorn Hotchner stammer through a sentence.

"Oh," the Doctor took a mental step back, and looked around at the assembled Bureau employees. Maybe he had overestimated their willingness to accept this situation. After all, it was in their very nature to question what didn't make sense. "That's not really how this," he drawled out, while gesticulating wild circular patterns in the air, "works."

"While we're on the topic," Morgan invaded the slightly shorter man's personal space. He also took a short moment to unabashedly take in his appearance and mannerisms. He was… unusual, at best. "What is it exactly, that _you lot _do?" He punctuated the query by violently jabbing an index finger into the man's left shoulder.

The Doctor slowly brought his hands to his sides, staring the excessively belligerent man down all the while. "Look, I can tell that you're an inquisitive bunch. The fact is, we may not have a lot of time to sort this. So, this is what I'm going to do," he extended his hand to Derek, and the man looked down at it before returning to the Doctor's eyes. "I'm going to give you my word that I'm here to help." Derek took a silent consensus of his friends. Then he grudgingly accepted the hand because, well, what else was there to do?

"People are disappearing," Reid blurted out, and the Doctor immediately turned to him. Spencer made note of the heavy concern that had draped over the man's face. "There is no overwhelming connection in victimology. Both men and women, aged from 19 to 57, 32 reports in all. This has happened over the span of a week."

"You've had 32 missing people in a week?!" Rossi nearly jumped out of his skin at the Scottish woman's abrupt outburst from her position next to him. Not that he made any outward signs to signal his surprise.

JJ spoke, "that's precisely why our team was tasked with finding and apprehending a suspect. We generally deal with more high-profile cases. As you can imagine, with so many missing people in such a short period of time, this one is getting a lot of attention."

Rossi removed himself from the corner of the desk he'd been sitting on, and headed toward the Doctor. "We're more or less a last resort in most situations. The locals tend to either hold-out until the last second because they don't trust our tactics, or try to call us in prematurely because they think we can work our 'hocus pocus' and solve their case with no evidence."

Rory felt the urge to voice a concern. So much so, that he was willing to overcome the fear that was filling his mind because of their current predicament. "How do you know they're all victims of the same attacker?"

"We don't," Derek found himself admitting the hard truth, "not for certain. Based on the ones that we can safely assume were taken by the same offender, we've been able to make what we think are pretty good guesses as to which of the others may have been abducted by him."

JJ filled in the missing pieces for the young man. "Several of the victims were taken while with friends, or family. The witnesses said that they were there one second, and then they just disappeared."

Hotchner stepped forward slightly, physically inserting himself into the conversation. "We have a working profile."

"Only," Emily was the last one to cave to the strange man's demands of information, "we aren't having any luck."

Hotch continued, "we've been working this case since the tenth victim, that was five days ago, and we don't have a shred of actual evidence to show for it."

The Doctor had remained quiet. Observing each speaker closely after the younger doctor's earlier outburst. He put a hand over his face and, as it slowly moved its way down to his chin, he wondered how well these people were going to take what he was about to say. He spoke to the man in-charge, "you said that you and your team study human behavior?" It was a rhetorical question, but the man gave a stout nod of confirmation. The Doctor leaned toward him slightly and, in a voice eerily close to a whisper, postulated, "what if you're not dealing with a human?"

**A/N: I thought this was a good stopping point, and I have to come up with a witty profile. Being witty is hard… **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here's a short chapter for the Holidays. I hope you all enjoy!**

The question may have seemed downright ludicrous, but they were really in no position to argue the point. This guy, that was claiming to be an alien, had technology that was without doubt otherworldly. Either he was telling the truth, or they were all sharing a very strange dream. So, when the Doctor asked them what they had come up with by means of a profile, they reluctantly cooperated.

"It's difficult to come up with an accurate rundown of the UnSub since we have no evidence of what becomes of these missing people." Hotch took the lead, sensing that his agents were hesitant to do so without his express consent.

Morgan fell into presentation mode immediately, "we're working under the premise that this individual is an organized offender, essentially a 'hired gun'. He's leaving no evidence whatsoever, and we have no idea what his reasoning is."

"Is there ever a reason?" Rory had seen quite a bit of tragedy in the more than two thousand years he had lived, and he often found himself questioning the growing level of depravity in the human race.

Emily mumbled, "not a good one," more so to herself than anyone else.

Derek felt complied to respond to the philosophical question. "Our job is to get into the heads of these criminals, figure out their crazed logic and get a step ahead of them." He didn't have to study his friends to know that they felt the same way.

"We think this could also be tied to a human trafficking ring of some sort, maybe a part of the black market." Prentiss wanted to set the conversation back in the right direction.

Amy was visibly startled by the latter hypothesis. "You mean, in the sense that these people could be waking up in a bathtub full of ice with a missing kidney?"

"Pretty much," was the short, but completely serious response she received from Emily.

She crossed her arms protectively, initially frightened by the ominous prospects of the thought, but the curiosity in her won out. "Only, if that were so, wouldn't the victims come forward?" She wavered in her thinking, not sure if she wanted to voice her next suspicion. "Or… if they didn't make it… wouldn't you have found bodies by now?"

JJ sensed the other woman's slight naiveté to the darkness of the world, and her first instinct was to protect her from it. "Well, it's only been a week. He may be holding these people captive."

Reid had no such concerns, and quickly answered the second question. "Even remains that have been left out in the open, uncovered, can take a couple of weeks to find. It all depends on the locale. Then you have to take into account the mind of the UnSub. If this particular UnSub _is _a killer, it's likely that he's fastidious in his disposal process as well. Or, he could have completely destroyed the bodies; we may never find them."

As Spencer's longwinded explanation came to and end, something occurred to the Doctor. "You keep saying 'he'?"

Derek fielded the inquiry. "Well, more than a few of the missing people were in decent shape physically. They would have put up a fight."

Though the comment wasn't directed at her, she took a great deal of offense to it. There was no quicker way to anger Amy Pond, than to insinuate that she was weak in any way. "And what, you don't think a _girl _could overpower them? I don't care how strong you are, all I need is one strategically placed kick." It may have been a crass outburst, but she made the point that it didn't take training to win a fight.

The comment, and the gulping reaction Derek gave, elicited more than a few grins from the members of the B.A.U.

"Statistically speaking, it's highly unlikely that any serial offender is female. We're merely theorizing the most likely scenario," Reid assured. He was completely oblivious to the thinly veiled, and purposely humorous threat.

Rossi couldn't let the preposterous idea, that this man was extraterrestrial, slide without further prodding. "So, if we're to believe that you're an alien… are you suggesting that our Unknown Subject is in-fact some type of alien creature?"

"Oh, David, it could be a myriad of things." The Doctor tilted his head and moved toward the younger man. "It may not even be sentient, or corporeal for that matter." He turned to address the entire room, hands held neatly behind his back. "I've gotten to know more than a few of you humans." He stepped around the group as if he were an instructor carefully inspecting the progress of his students. Weaving between, and abnormally close to, his new acquaintances. "I know that your first reaction to hard proof that you are not alone, and are actually a very small piece in the universe is fear. It may not manifest in hysteria or panic, but it's there." He stopped once he was back in front of Dave. "That fear is a direct result of the sudden vastness of unknown."

"So then, you're some type of expert that goes around saving people from the things that go bump in the night?" The deeply sarcastic side of Rossi was greatly amused by the fact that the Doctor had taken his juvenilely delivered bait. He raised a single eyebrow, "I don't suppose you'd like to have us put out a B.O.L.O. for the boogieman?"

The Doctor gave a thin smile as he turned around and walked away. "Don't be childish, Dave, the boogieman is a silly and contrived bedtime monster." As he breached the entryway to the TARDIS, they could only just make out his words. "If you're going to issue a B.O.L.O., it should be for Rudolph. I mean, if you're going to steal the crown jewel from a Rexacoricofallapatorian's collection and try to pass it off as a glorified light bulb, you shouldn't let people write songs about it." His eyes widened, but he was mainly talking to himself at this point. "The other reindeer will be the _least_ of your problems if one of the Slitheen get their hands on you."

**A/N: I'm not sure if that came off as clever or not… I hope I got a few laughs though. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I feel like I'm neglecting this story? What do you think of my update speed? I also forgot to mention that B.O.L.O. stands for Be On the Look Out. Any fan of cop shows should know that though, right? **

Amy and Rory were once again left in the awkward wake of the Doctor's words. The people around them were physically frozen with confusion. Had this man _really _just suggested that they issue a B.O.L.O. for Rudolph? And what the heck was a Raxacoriconphallapawhosit? Rossi pointed to the large box and spoke, "if it weren't for that thing, I'd think he was a raving lunatic." He raised an eyebrow as he turned his head to see the faces of the others. "Like, a 'hide the tin foil' kinda crazy."

Amy put a hand on the man's shoulder as she walked by. "No one ever said he _wasn't _a madman, Dave." He fought the smile that wanted to surface, revealing small dimples despite his best efforts, and followed the young woman into the box. His team, and Rory were close behind.

The usually vibrant room was dark and cold, filled with silence. The Doctor could be heard rummaging underneath the elevated platform, but no one wanted to interrupt him. Seconds later, he began shouting. "No, no…no!" He emerged, and dashed up the stairs to the control panel. He ran around flipping levers and switches with no real result.

"What is it?" Amy asked him.

"We are stuck here," the sentence was elongated as his focus was on the TARDIS. Giving up, he walked down the stairs and stood before the crowd that was now assembled just inside the entrance.

"So you're saying that you can't move this thing?" It was Hotch that had voiced this concern.

The Doctor nodded. "Essentially, the parking brake is engaged. Oh well, we'll deal with that later. We need to get to catching this bad guy." He began looking about excitedly with a goofy grin. He licked his lips and hunched over faintly. "The crook… the scumbag, the perp… the hooligan," his eyes shifted back and forth, searching his mind for more material, "the gangsta." He was quite amused with himself as he came to the end of his list. After seeing the deeply unamused faces of the others, he straightened his bowtie and cleared his throat. "Or, whatever it was that you all call them." The Doctor didn't do embarrassed well.

"It's almost six in the morning," even the Doctor was at a loss to the direction that Spencer was headed with that statement. Sensing the confusion, he continued. "People are going to start arriving for the workday, and there's a giant blue box in the middle of the office."

"Well once you put it like that, it sounds rather obvious." The Doctor quickly darted back to the control panel. "No worries, we'll just set her outer shell to invisible."

It was almost a race as the agents ran outside to see if he was telling the truth. They could still see the control room through the open door, but the outside had indeed vanished. "How is that…" Garcia trailed off, not entirely sure of how to continue.

Amy looked over to the much shorter woman. "The guy is an alien that time travels in a box, and you think that invisibility is a stretch?"

He walked out then, pulling the now invisible door closed behind him. The ship was completely cloaked, and near impossible to see. He removed a small, silver key from his breast pocket and assaulted the air with it until he found his target. As the lock clicked into place, he addressed them. "Right. So, back to the criminal, I'd like to…"

Derek hadn't really noticed that the other man had been talking. "What if somebody walks through here?" He was completely mesmerized by being able to touch something that he couldn't quite see.

The Doctor faced him. "They'll get a right large bump on the head." He went to resume the previous conversation, but saw that the rest of the group was now preoccupied with the quandary. How would they explain it to the other agents? "Look, if you're that worried, put your desks around it and say you were doing a 'group exercise'." He'd meant it as a joke, but when JJ asked him to grab the other end of a desk he felt obligated to help.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I wanted to thank ****_TAMS _****for the review as I can't reply, I'm glad you see it that way. Now everyone, go enjoy chapter 7!**

The man was startled by the sudden eruption of sound in the dark room. He had spent the better part of the last eight hours in mute solitude. He had been utterly transfixed by the images flickering across the monitors that he was glued to. He turned to face the intruder with bloodshot eyes that were wide in terror.

"Whoa," the other man put his hands up. "You okay, Steve?"

Steve instantly realized how strange and frazzled he must have seemed, and quickly composed himself. "Yeah, I just uh… I think I'm going to take the day off tomorrow." He hurriedly excused himself and his behavior, and practically ran toward the exit. The other man's features scrunched up in confusion before he shook his head and took the now vacant seat.

He looked to the screens and saw a familiar sight. The B.A.U. team was still hard at work. He saw that group in the early morning hours quite a bit. They would often stay late to knockout a task, or come in to get a head start on the new day as a team. He squinted again, thinking back to his coworker's actions. Then he peered over his shoulder at the now closed door, mulled it over for a few seconds, and shook his head once more.

* * *

"I'd like to take a look at the crime scenes, would that be a problem?" Of course, even if proper procedure restricted his access, it wouldn't be a _problem _for the Doctor, merely a nuisance.

"Not at all." As farcical as this all was, there was something about the Doctor that almost begged for blind trust and acceptance. This was something that Hotchner had inadvertently succumbed to. "Morgan and Prentiss, show him to the abduction sites."

Derek was driving, and as always, putting his police training to good use. Emily was riding shotgun and, though she knew that he was just trying to rattle their passengers, she couldn't remember a time he had driven more aggressively; even in pursuits. She chanced a glance to the back seat, and the scene was almost comical. Amy sat on the left with a death-grip on the overhead handle. Her eyes were scanning about as quickly as possible. It looked as if she were desperately trying to spy any potential dangers, poised to call out should any arise. Rory, whom Emily was guessing to be romantically involved with the redhead, was almost a mirror image of her. His hands were firmly latched to the grip handle on his side, only his eyes were shut so tight it almost looked painful. The Doctor was perched betwixt the couple. The man appeared to be absolutely ecstatic. He sat with almost perfect posture, and his hands were resting in his lap. The goofy grin had returned, and he continuously let gravity take full control of his body as Derek made sharp turns at calculatedly high speeds. She looked back to Morgan and just caught his eyes darting to the rearview mirror. After seeing the man in the middle his scowl intensified, and Emily couldn't subdue a small smirk as his obvious alpha male tendencies went unnoticed by the Doctor.

She turned her attention to her surroundings, in an effort to gain her bearings. Noting that they were nearing arrival, she decided to brief the other three. "We noticed a pattern pretty early on." Amy shifted her focus to the other woman momentarily, and then went back to watching the traffic. "The first eight victims went missing in, and around, the center of Dupont Circle. Reid's the expert," she wasn't able to give them _all _of the details of the geographic profile, "but after that, the crime scenes have been spiraling outward."

The Doctor had been listening, content to be willingly offered information. "Spiraling outward?"

"Yes, the next three were taken at the Naval Observatory. Then six more in Fairfax." She undid her seatbelt as Morgan brought the S.U.V. to a stop on the side of the street. "He appears to be choosing places in a counter-clockwise manner."

"According to the profile we've got," Derek joined in as they got out of the vehicle and headed for the fountain in front of them, "this could mean that, if he is a professional, he's in some kind of psychotic break."

"And how do you get that?" Amy wasn't questioning the validity of the profile, but the mechanics of it.

"It's sporadic," she spoke from the back of the group, next to Rory. "He doesn't have a comfort zone, and victimology is all over the place."

Derek picked up the explanation again. "Normally this would suggest someone who is testing out their fantasies, they aren't sure what gives them the most satisfaction at first. If our guy's a hit man, he would know what he likes."

"Well if he's a hit man, what if these people are just targets?" Rory asked, pulling his coat tighter to fight the bitter cold.

"Doesn't 32 people seem like an awful lot of targets to you?" Emily responded whilst buttoning her own jacket. "Chances are, if that many people were assassinated in the same area, their deaths would probably have been ordered by one individual. If that were the case, there would be a common factor between them all."

"Garcia's gone _deep _into each of their lives, and there is no such connection." Derek was adamant in that statement, but he felt the need to stress it to the newcomers. "Believe me, if they so much as smiled at each other on the street, she would have found out."

They stopped once they reached the circle, and the Doctor continued walking. Despite the fact that the area was flush with people, presumably on their way to work, he retrieved his screwdriver and began to wave it about. He was intermittently activating it, and occasionally fiddling with the settings.

"He does that," Amy dismissed as the agents stared closely at the man. "What about your other theory?"

"It's a real possibility," Derek said. His eyes were still fixed on the Doctor.

Emily turned to face Amy and Rory, "they could be purposely changing locations repeatedly to evade capture. If we _are _talking about someone who is selling body parts on the black market, they would be driven by completely different factors. The location wouldn't matter to them, not as much as opportunity."

"Ah-ha!" the Doctor shouted. "You're wrong on both counts." Emily turned around just in time to see him take a tentative step onto the ice. As he found it supported his weight, he continued toward the center of the fountain. "You're not dealing with a psychotic person at all, but a psychopathic angel."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I felt the urge to write this after****_ TheMysteriousGeek's_ comment. Not**** that I'm saying that sort of thing motivates me… Lots o' dialogue in this one. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, or bad…**

***E.M.T. = Emergency Medical Technician **

Derek and Emily shared a glance that said, '_did I hear that correctly?' _Prentiss was quick to oppose the absurd proclamation with an exhausted, "what the hell are you doing?"

The Doctor poked his head out from behind the decorative centerpiece and gave her a pointed look. "You're a United States F.B.I. Agent, are you not?" Her demeanor went from perturbed curiosity to pure anger in that split second. She clenched her jaw to prevent the onslaught of curses that were vying for release. She had quite a large arsenal, and she wanted to use them all to describe this man. "Trained in detecting the slightest of details?" He pressed on, figuring she wouldn't shoot him; at least not with this many witnesses around. "Doesn't this seem a bit strange to you?" He backed away and pointed to the side of the fountain opposite them.

Amy and Rory moved to see what the Doctor was indicating, Derek on their heels. Emily did so as well, but not with as much vigor. They could all easily see the void in the artwork, but Morgan was the one to ask what they were all thinking. "I don't get it. What's this sculpture got to do with the missing people?"

"Absolutely nothing." The Doctor stepped up on the outer edge of the fountain and began pacing while adjusting his sonic apparatus. Even Amy was visibly perplexed at this point. "However, the _missing_ sculpture… now that's worrisome."

He then hopped to the ground and walked through the small group in the direction of their car. "Come along now, we've got to inform the others." His companions were quick to comply.

"That our victims are being killed by rogue fountain décor?" Emily remained in place, wanting to see where her partner stood on this idea.

He raised his eyebrows to her question and took off toward the others. "Come on, Prentiss. It doesn't matter if we believe him. Hotch wanted the guy's take on the abduction sites, and now he's gonna get it."

"Yeah," she said, "whether he likes it or not." She trotted off after Derek back to the S.U.V.

* * *

Hotch had gathered his remaining agents and Garcia in the conference room. There was still an immense amount of speculation of the strange man's extraterrestrial claims. He decided that, in order to get the case back in motion, he needed to extinguish that particular fire. "Garcia?"

She was midway through yet another question directed to Spencer as to the authenticity of the craft in the room outside. "Yes, boss-man sir," came her speedy reply, completely dropping her query.

"I want you to run a search for me." He knew without asking that, at the very least, Dave had been profiling the three intruders all along as he had been. He looked to the older man, "the boy, 23 or 24?"

Rossi nodded, "sounds about right." He folded his hands on the table. "I'd say that his willingness to help, through blatant fear, would indicate a public servant of some type."

"I agree," Hotch said. "I was leaning toward E.M.T. or nurse. He's obviously not a cop, and he's too young to be a doctor."

Reid caught on, and added, "He definitely has an English accent." At several blank stares, he continued. "More specifically, he uses colloquialisms that would lend to a small-town upbringing."

"Got it," Garcia exclaimed. "Rory Williams. He grew up in Leadworth, and it looks like he's been a nurse in a coma ward there for the last year or so. Also, he's married. Ooooh," she purred, "to a one, Amelia Pond. She's in the process of becoming, Amelia Williams. Turns out that there aren't that many Rory nurses in the U.K."

"What does she do?" JJ asked, genuinely curious.

Garcia pursed her lips as she scanned the information. "Says here that she's a kissogram."

"A kissogram, a nurse and an alien…" Rossi left his own words to hang in the air, not really having anything else to add.

"Sounds like the start to a bad joke," JJ said. Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

He shook his head up and down as he frowned. He figured, '_an alien probably _would _have odd friends.'_

Noticing Dave's silent reconciliation, he thought he might be headed in the right direction. So he pressed the issue. "Look, it doesn't matter if we believe in the existence of life elsewhere in the universe or not. We've just verified that he was honest with us when he told us their names. Reid, surely _you _can agree that he's most likely telling the truth?"

"Well," the younger man began, "he certainly has technology that is far beyond anything that I've ever seen. He seems to be lucid, for the most part. As far as I can tell, though I clearly know nothing of alien physiology, his micro expressions are conveying nothing but truthfulness."

"Thank you," Hotch said to the raw, scientific answer that he had been hoping to elicit. "He said he was here to help, and I trust him. Call it a gut instinct, but I do."

"Well I don't trust him," Rossi stood, "but I trust your gut, Aaron. That's enough for me." He grabbed his cup and headed to the door. "Coffee, anyone?" No one took him up on his offer, so he walked out leaving Hotch to convince the rest.

As he was making his return trip from the kitchenette, he saw the tail end of the five-person party entering the conference room. He quickened his step toward the small set of stairs, and then the door at the far end of the platform. He opened the door to hear, "are you seriously trying to tell me that an _angel _is behind this?" It seemed that Aaron Hotchner might have lost some of his blind faith in the Doctor.

The man pointed an index finger at Hotch, "yes!" He retracted the finger and said, "Well, no." He extended it again, "but yes." He lit up with a smile and walked over to Garcia. "Penelope, is it?"

"Uh… yeah," she answered timidly, looking to Hotch for guidance.

"I've heard that you are the woman to talk to when in need of some good, old-fashioned sussing," he stated. Not waiting for verification, he carried on. "I need you to tell me if there are any facebookings about statues in odd places around where people have disappeared." He watched her expectantly, and she hesitantly relented.

Her hands flew along the keyboard as she delved into multiple social networking sites. A torrent of windows were open on her small laptop screen, each one useful only to her. As the Doctor impatiently leaned over her shoulder, the agents in the room could detect a hint of frustration in him. It was one that most of them had also felt at one time or the other. The man wasn't quite able to follow along. Sure, he possessed the know-how, but not at such breakneck speeds.

**A/N: I don't own facebook… just incase Zuckerberg is thinking about suing. Also, I didn't realize that Leadworth was a fictional place... or an anagram?**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I apologize for the wait; I've been filling out scholarships. It's been rough. **

Focused as they were on the techie and her equipment, none of them seemed to notice the conference room door open until they heard a familiar voice. "Agent Hotchner, I…" Strauss stopped, dead in her tracks, after she fully entered the room. Hotch's head jerked to the door with a speed equivalent to that of teenage boy whose mother had opened his bedroom door without knocking. The expression he wore was pretty similar to that of the teenage boy as well. "Who are you?" There was the smallest element of surprise in her voice as she spoke to the man in the bowtie, but she mainly just came off as irritated. She knew that none of her subordinates liked her a great deal, but the B.A.U. seemed to have a proclivity for keeping secrets from her. As most teams went, even if she didn't get information directly from unit leaders or the agents themselves, she would eventually pick up what she needed through water-cooler conversations. This particular group was close-knit and, though she outranked them all, she did not possess as much authority as she would like to over them. She simply had nothing to use as leverage.

The Doctor surveyed the room. Judging by the deer-caught-in-headlights look on the faces of everyone else, he surmised that it was safe to assume two things. This, rather angry looking, woman was in some position of dominance. He noticed that immediately with the way she carried herself, and her inherent lack of hesitation in both entering the space and addressing him. He also noticed that none of the bureau employees in the small room had put any effort into formulating an even reasonably believable cover story for the presence of the three new people. He quickly strode toward her and offered his hand. "Ma'am, S.I.S. Agent John Smith," he introduced himself. He crossed his body awkwardly with his left arm, his right hand still shaking with Strauss' enthusiastically. "Agent Prentiss, my badge?" He extended his open hand to her, and she hastily liberated the object from her pocket. He ignored the baffled expression that the item's location had evoked from Strauss, and held the leather wallet open by his face.

To her surprise, she saw a completely legitimate form of identification. That still didn't answer why he was there though, or who the other two strangers were.

She started to ask just that, but was interrupted by Agent Smith. "I know what you're thinking," his manner was wholly serious. For a moment, she entertained the idea that maybe this man was a big player in his own agency, and that he was consulting with the B.A.U. could be her opportunity to turn this informal meeting into political gain. Then he finished his sentence, this time with a bright smile in place. "No, I'm not quite as photogenic as I'd like to be. My hair always does this _thing_," the Doctor was using his now free right hand to indicate the different directions his scruffy mop would fly depending on the occasion.

She promptly reconsidered all thoughts that this man was a professional… anything. She had zero interest in playing politics with an overgrown child. How much power could such a superfluously energetic man wield? Certainly not enough to damage, or for that matter, further her career. She nodded toward Amy and Rory, narrowing her eyes as she spoke. "And your… associates?"

He turned to look at them, and then slowly rounded back to Strauss. There were no traces of the smile that his face had held when he'd looked away. His lips were in a thin line as he leaned closer to her. Inches away from her ear, he released a deadly whisper. "_That_ is on a need to know basis."

As he retracted, her expression became sour. She sternly gazed at Hotch, and remained silent. "Agent Smith is helping us out with the profile of a possible international UnSub. He's an old acquaintance of Agent Prentiss." He broke through the heavy tension that had settled with the best lie he could come up with in the time that the Doctor had bought.

Strauss again examined Agent Smith. That clearly explained why he was in the B.A.U., and why she disliked him. She didn't care for Agent Prentiss, not since Emily had refused to play her game, why would she like the woman's friends? It still didn't explain the other two, but she had better things to do than police her underlings. "Consultations are supposed to be through formal invitations only."

"It's time sensitive, Erin." If there was one thing that David Rossi knew, it was how to time a well-placed gibe. The use of the woman's first name was a subtle way of saying that he didn't give a damn about protocol, and that he wasn't above using his connections to get out of any trouble they might bring down upon themselves. It was also his polite way of telling her to leave.

She knew exactly what it was. She also knew that if they screwed up in a grand enough way, she'd finally be able to get rid of Hotchner and Prentiss; maybe she'd force Rossi into a second retirement as well. "In that case, I'll get out of your way." Strauss backed toward the door. "I came for an update, but I can see that you're all working diligently. I'd like to know before you make an arrest?"

Hotch dipped his head, "of course, Ma'am."

She closed the door, but paused before leaving. Perhaps she had misjudged Agent Smith. Maybe his eccentric exterior was a clever façade.

**A/N: I felt a bit like I was writing about the Wicked Witch there toward the end…**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Sorry about the delay, I had to write a good chunk of the ending to figure out where I was going. The geography was made possible by Google Earth. I make no claims of accuracy, or sensibleness.**

"Phew." The Doctor wiped his forehead in an exaggerated fashion. "Well if nothing else, I now know who amongst you have defied your parents in the past." His eyebrows nearly met his hairline as he took the time to cast an appreciative glance to the three agents that had actively helped to ward away the angry woman. The man had a natural affinity for mischief-makers of any sort or age.

"Uh…" She was a pretty peculiar woman in her own right, but Penelope Garcia had never met anyone quite this strange before. For the time being, the best coping mechanism she could fathom was to simply be her freakishly productive self. "Okay, this is creepy. Like capable of catalyzing a serious case of the heebie-jeebies, creepy."

The Doctor looked downright perplexed. "Heebie-jeebies," he repeated questioningly, looking to his companions for guidance.

"Garcia," the unit chief spoke sternly before any could be given.

"Right." She mentally locked away her rising anxiety and pushed onward. "I was going through every social media network known to man, and I found two separate posts about 'weird' and 'freaky as shit' statues." She made sure to put the adolescent descriptions in air quotes. "This girl said that a 'weird statue' appeared outside of her apartment complex in Mt. Vernon, Virginia yesterday morning. Then, this guy says he saw an 'angel statue' in a park in Waldorf, Maryland on his way into work this morning. Says he's never seen it there before." JJ's phone began to violently pulsate on the surface of the table in front of her. "Given his reaction, I'd say he found the sight rather disturbing."

As Garcia finished her line of thought, the blonde agent picked up the device and answered the call. After a well practiced and concise conversation with who the others gathered to be the D.C. detective they had been collaborating with for the better part of the last week, she ended the call and stood from the table. "Detective Marsh just faxed over the next round of missing persons reports. I'll be right back." With that, she swept out of the room and made a beeline for her office.

She returned with a folder that contained far more sheets of paper than anyone was hoping to see. She opened the folder and placed it neatly in the center of the group. She proceeded to spread out the individual papers, arranging the reports geographically. "We've got six more. A 20-year-old woman and a 26-year-old man from Mt. Vernon, a 34-year-old man from La Plata and the last three were taken from Waldorf. A 23-year-old man, a 42-year-old woman and a 12-year-old boy." By the end of the list, JJ's voice was dominated by a heavy note of disgust.

"That fits." Reid had been diligently following along at the map he had pinned up four days ago, and had kept meticulously updated since. "That fits the location pattern we have. I've also noticed that this UnSub seems to be hanging around places with a higher population count for longer periods of time." He said this as he indicated the areas where the biggest clusters of people had been taken.

"So you think they're going to stick around Waldorf then," Morgan asked.

The Doctor turned suddenly serious, knowing all to well the dangers that awaited _him _in Waldorf, Maryland. The angel was _his _problem, _his _threat to contain. These people were woefully unprepared at best. There was absolutely no way that they possessed the knowledge, or ability, to deal with such a ferocious creature. The only problem was that he had no way of stopping them and, with the TARDIS out of commission, no way of getting there on his own. He could actually feel the adrenaline rising in the room. These people were dying to get to their SUV's now that they had a solid location.

Without wasting a second, he retrieved his sonic screwdriver and took aim. As Derek and Hotch fumbled with the door, and eventually let Spencer in for a look, the Doctor remained quiet. He was busy formulating his argument, but noticed Amy inconspicuously shifting closer. She spoke in a breathy, hushed tone. "What _are_ ya doin'?"

He didn't respond. Fully satisfied with his stratagem, he stepped forward. "You're not going to be able to open that."

The opening statement was, at best, ill received.

Hotch tilted his head, confounded by the new hindrance. "There's no lock on this door." The inflection in his voice made it seem like more of a question than what it really was.

The Doctor tipped his own head in kind. "There is now."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Morgan was livid. "Whatever you did, fix it."

A lesser man would have backed away from the unadulterated fury in the other man's eyes. "No."

It took the combined efforts of Rossi, Prentiss and Hotchner to restrain Derek Morgan. Emily had positioned herself between the two and, facing the Doctor, she was pushing back hard with all the strength in her legs. "What are you trying to prove," she tried. "You got us to trust you, why lock us in here and prevent us from saving innocent people?"

He began pacing back and forth. "You only trust me to do no harm. You don't believe me when I tell you that the perpetrator in this case is not of this world. You're still referring to it as an 'UnSub', 'he' and 'they'. I _need _you to believe that part, unequivocally, before you all go after it." They could feel Derek relax a bit. "This is a species known as the Weeping Angels. They are a very dangerous species. In a way, they're like your serial killers. It's just that they kill you very, very slowly."

"So one of these things is out there and it's, what, turning people to stone?" JJ was barely containing her own frustration.

"No," Reid said. "If that were the case, we would have found statues of the victims at the abduction sites." He looked to the Doctor. "How do Weeping Angels kill?"

"They send you back in time." Amy was quite familiar with the unnerving process. "Any point in the past, could even be before you were born."

"Unless they need a voice that is," the Doctor added. "If you're lucky, they just snap your neck with a quick proficiency in order to use a copy of your residual consciousness to communicate."

"What do they get by sending people back in time?" The human mind can rationalize just about anything, if one is willing to let it wander. As a seasoned profiler, Dave had rationalized a lot of dark acts in his life. It wasn't really all that difficult for him to jump on the psycho-angel-statue train.

"Potential energy," the Doctor answered without missing a beat. "It's what they feed off of."

Spencer frowned. "The energy possessed by a body by virtue of its position relative to others, stresses within itself and electric charge."

"Ah, yes… Physics! However, that's not the potential energy to which I am referring." He really did enjoy the way the young man cringed. The Doctor could tell that he had finally stumped Spencer Reid.

"You mean 'potential' as in the years that the victims could have spent living in their proper lifetime, right?" Emily wasn't certain that she'd put it together correctly, and the way that the man looked at her told her for sure that she'd been wrong.

He narrowed his eyes and, once he realized it was agape, clamped his mouth together. With pursed lips, he began to nod. "Precisely. They feed off of the energy created."

"So," JJ began again, "the younger the victim, the more energy created?" The Doctor nodded. "Then we've already wasted too much time here. We need to get out there, and now."

"You have no idea what you're dealing with," he argued.

"And that's why you and you're friends are coming with us." Prentiss spoke with an air of finality. "Come on, you can brief us on the way," she pleaded.

**A/N: I just kind of glossed over the description of the Weeping Angels because I'm assuming you wouldn't be here if you didn't know what they were. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Okay, I will probably wrap this up in the next chapter or two. I feel like people are losing interest, and I don't want it to drag. Let me know if I'm just being a paranoid fool though. **

They did what all cops do when they have a suspect corralled to a general area: they spread out. Everyone in that line of work seemed to be genetically encoded with a need to act when innocents were in danger. There was really no other way the nine of them could appease their worried minds but to get boots on the ground, canvassing the sector they'd narrowed it down to. They were actually _hoping _to run headlong into an alien that was capable of ending their lives as they knew them with the flick of its wrist; knowing full well that there was no way that they could come back from it. Once they had eyes on the target, they'd be able to do something about it. At least, that's what they'd been telling themselves for the past few hours. In reality, the Doctor was the only one of them that had the ability to do anything about it. Though they could tell that he didn't have a set plan. Even as he had given them a rundown of the creature, he seemed unsure.

JJ and Spencer were coming to the end of their residential sweep when she spoke. "Do you think it's even possible for something to move as fast as he says this thing does?"

The scientist in Reid let out a small laugh at the vagueness of her question. "Honestly?" She nodded. This told him that she wanted a pure, academically rationalized response. "After the things that I've seen in the past 20 or so hours, I don't believe that anything is outside the realm of possibility. He's an extraterrestrial being, JJ. He's got an entire ship concealed in a box, and it's capable of doing things that even _I _don't understand." He stopped at the driveway to the next house. "I've never claimed to be an exceedingly intelligent person, but I am well above average. Just from a technological standpoint, that thing sitting in the B.A.U. right now could change the world. If the Doctor told me that pigs could fly, I'd ask him to show me." His gaze finally shifted from the ground around his feet to her smiling face. "What?"

She put a hand over her mouth to keep herself from bursting into laughter at Reid's confused look. "Ya coulda just said 'yes', Spence." She headed in the direction of the next house. He was surprised for a moment, and then he quickly went over the conversation in his head. After realizing that she was indeed correct, he nodded to himself and his hands found his pockets. Then he scuttled off to catch up to her.

* * *

Hotch had tasked himself and Rossi with surveying the businesses down a well traveled strip mall. They were going solo, hitting establishments two at a time. As he exited an Italian restaurant, he found Dave waiting for him outside. "I'm thinking the twenties." He was leaning heavily on his left shoulder against the brick wall of the building, breathing into his hands to keep them warm.

"Excuse me?" Hotch walked past him, knowing that the man would follow.

Dave caught up to him with relative ease. "I'd like to be sent back to the 1920's. Classy mobsters and hard-ass cops, what's not to like?"

Hotch let a rare smile escape, along with a low snicker. "_You _would want to choose which era in history you're forsaken to."

Rossi grinned, "wouldn't you?"

He dismissed his friend's question entirely, instead opting to enter the next establishment.

This time, it was Aaron waiting on Dave. He was in much the same position his mentor had been; only he had his hands snugly encased in his down winter coat. He let Rossi get a few steps on him, and then he called out. "The late 1800's." Dave stopped and faced him. "Settling the West." He straightened, and waited for the other man's opinion.

He looked up quizzically, as if trying to picture the scenario. "Marshal Hotchner?" He looked back to Aaron, squinting slightly. "Nah, you'd be an outlaw."

* * *

"So," Morgan began. Once he felt he had Emily's ear, he continued. "We're tracking an alien that's made of stone, looks like an angel, is mad fast, has no concept of right or wrong and throws people through time for food." The streetlights beamed to life around them as the sun dipped below the horizon.

They slowed to a stop and she turned to him. "Did you have a point to make, or are you just trying to do the math on how deep this particular creek is?"

He smiled in response. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "could be worse." She arched her brow as a silent challenge. "At least we have a trustworthy alien of our very own."

"Just because he's been honest," she shook her head and turned away from him, "that doesn't mean that he's trustworthy." She mindlessly kicked at a dislodged chunk of sidewalk. Her partner remained silent. She raised her head. That realization had hit Emily hard. She stilled with fear. A steady stream of panic filtered into her mind. This was how it happened. They'd had seven eyewitnesses that hadn't seen anything at all. They'd been walking along with their friends and looked away. The next thing they knew, they were by themselves. She was rendered nearly catatonic as the thoughts swept through her. Absolutely horrified that her dear friend had just been wiped from existence. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

**A/N: Ah yes, who hates me now? I'll try not to take forever and a day to get the next chapter up. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm picking up directly from the end of the last chapter. **

"Hey, Princess?" She spun around. The horror induced adrenaline rush must have been painfully evident because Derek let out a hearty chuckle at his partner's state. "I was talkin' about Reid." He laughed again, "come on, we gotta get to that rendezvous. We wouldn't want anyone to get worried about us."

She might have let the little dig slide had he not added a wink at the end. Instead, she gave him a solid punch to the shoulder as he walked by.

They ended up being the last pair to make it to the regrouping. They walked into a heated discussion in which the FBI agents were trying to figure out just how much damage they'd done to the Bureau's image. Federal agents knocking on doors to ask if anyone had seen a statue moving through the city was bound to make waves. They'd be lucky if they could plead temporary insanity with Strauss. That was a risk they were all willing to take though. If it just meant saving one life, it'd be worth any repercussions.

The Doctor took in the condition of the team, and he could tell that the B.A.U. members were running low on steam. They'd been working on the case, or trying to figure out what to do with him, for the last 30 hours straight. They had been teetering on the edge of exhaustion _before_ the arrival of the TARDIS, only to be reinvigorated by the series of outlandish events that had followed that incident. Of course, 48-hour shifts weren't exactly uncommon on cases with a deadline and some without.

As tired as they were, not one of them failed to react when they heard it. It was a shrill cry that ripped through the cold night air. The group bounded off in the direction that it came from, finding the subsequent howling to be a good indicator of orientation.

The Doctor ran toward the desperate scream as well; it was second nature for him. He'd always had companions to run along behind him, but he was a bit surprised by the speed of the agents with him. They ran toward the commotion with a purpose and, though they each carried weapons, he trusted that their sole intent was to _save _lives. That had been very clear to him. Even in the short time that he had known them, he could see that they were all virtuous people. He somehow had a great deal more confidence in the judgment they possessed than he had in anyone else he had "worked" with in recent years. He slipped into the alleyway, just behind the agents, and came to an abrupt halt. The sight he came to face with was a scenario that he had been dreading.

The agents had encircled the now quietly panicking woman, and were doing their best to mollify her. They were passed the glow of the streetlights, and the only illumination came from their individual torches. It was clear to him that they were wildly out of their depths, as they were simultaneously forming a plan of attack. He calmly breached their circle, and took control of the situation. "It's very important that you listen to _me _now." No one objected to the man that was now brazenly stepping closer to the odd scene. "You won't need your guns, they won't do you any good." Reid and Rossi moderately lowered their weapons, and watched the Doctor attentively. The others remained steadfast. "I'll need four of you staring at this statue at all times, and two of you watching the far end of the alley for reinforcements. Remember," he stressed, "don't blink." At Hotch's directive, JJ and Dave backed away and headed farther into the alley. The Doctor turned to his companions; "the two of you keep a lookout on the opposite end."

He slowly returned his attention to the being that stood before him. The woman in its grasp was struggling for freedom. "Look at you," he drawled as he walked behind the creature.

It appeared to be a beautifully sculpted angelic specimen. Its body covered by a full-length, ruffled, cloth robe, wings splayed as if it were about to burst into flight. The only thing foreboding about it was the screaming, devilish face. The thing seemed to be in direct conflict with itself. It was, in essence, a demonic angel.

It was disfigured by weather erosion from the visually apparent years it had spent locked in one position. The face was badly damaged, and the agents knew that they had been right about one thing; more than one of the victims had fought back. They had somehow managed to get in the smallest of defensive attacks before they were torn from their lives.

Then there were the eyes. Although they were made of stone, void of almost any human characteristics, they were teaming with emotion. There was sorrow, grief, confusion and most of all fear. Even though the creature was bearing its teeth at the Doctor, the profilers could easily read the hurt and suffering present in its eyes.

"What have you done?" He knew it had no way of replying, but he needed to voice the question anyway. "You've erased 38 people, that we know of. How do you justify that? Survival?" He turned his back to the angel, looked up to the sky, and ran his hands into his hair. He stayed like that for several long seconds, contemplating the possible outcomes.

Morgan's voice registered somewhere in the forefront. "She must have seen it before it could get to her. Then, when we showed up, she was distracted. It had to have grabbed her just as we turned the corner." He was trying to make sense of the situation, so very human.

Finally, after coming to a conclusion, he faced the woman that remained in the vice-like grip of the alien being. "I'm sorry," his voice was saturated in sadness and regret. "I know that you're scared, but there's nothing we can do. You won't feel a thing. You'll wake up, and you'll be in a different time."

"No!" The woman was sobbing uncontrollably. "My children," words failed her as she desperately tried to make sense of what was going on. "I don't understand." She pleaded helplessly to the Doctor. In response, he did the only thing he could to comfort her. He reached out and took her hand in his.

He spoke to the members of the B.A.U. that remained. "I want you all to back away as much as possible." They didn't wait for their boss' approval this time. They immediately followed the Doctor's orders, as did Hotch. "Now, I need you all to turn away."

"We can't," Emily was deeply disturbed by the idea of leaving the woman's fate in the hands of this deranged brute. They'd taken the Doctor at his word for the most part, and he hadn't betrayed them. He'd said that this thing was a ruthless murder, and vicious to no end. So why was he suddenly willing to give up and let it take another victim?

As absurd as it had seemed to be earlier, to associate those attributes with a statue, she couldn't bring herself to literally turn her back on someone that was in the clutches of this monster. "We can't just let it have her." She turned to her colleagues, hoping to gain some support. They each seemed to be in various stages of shock, not being able to decide what the best course of action was.

"Emily, I'm sorry, but we have no choice." The Doctor stepped up to her and put a hand on each of her shoulders, forcing her to lower her gun, and then bowed forward to meet her eyes. "The angel has her, we are only delaying the inevitable. They need to feed on energy to survive, and survival is their only prerogative."

She fleetingly made eye contact with Derek, and she saw the unchecked despair in his gaze as he twisted away from the beast. Spencer and Hotch did the same with an uneasy hesitation. She was determined to keep the angel in her sights, now more than ever. The woman's life depended on it. She looked past the Doctor as he continued to reason with her. Her eyes became blurry with surging tears. Then it happened. She blinked.

Her face twisted, but with shock or distress, the Doctor couldn't tell. Emily remained silent as she stared with unfocused eyes at a spot just behind him. Then a sound assaulted his ears; it was the sound of muffled crying. He turned on his heel, and vigorously looked between the angel and the woman that had been in its hold moments ago.

The wretched devil stood tall, wings peacefully tucked behind its back, hands cupping its fiendish face. It was only inches from him, but he wasn't panic-stricken in the least. The Doctor beamed widely, and proceeded to envelope Prentiss in a full-on bear hug. There was a short delay, but she returned the gesture with her free hand as the other held her Glock toward the ground. The laughter that began to trickle from the pair was enough to turn the heads of her remaining team members. He finally relinquished his hold, but remained in a stunned noiselessness. She could see it in his eyes then. She saw his age, wisdom and the pure thrill coursing through him. He was exhilarated. As if to prove her right, he jovially ran off to collect David and JJ. As he sprinted away, he shouted, "Humans!"

**A/N: I may have stolen Dr. Who dialogue here, but I assure you it wasn't intentional. It's been awhile since I've watched any episodes. Some lines do sound vaguely familiar to me though. If you spot something, feel free to yell at me. One chapter left to finish this one up.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I'd like to wholeheartedly apologize for taking so long to wrap this up. I'll explain it at the end, and thank you all for being very patient. I really do appreciate the reviews and follows, it's been great fun. **

The incessant beeping seemed to be intensified by the quiet of the early morning. The B.A.U. and the Doctor's companions stood behind the angel in the alleyway, patiently waiting for the ordeal to unfold. The Doctor was busy studiously overseeing the loading process. It had only been a few hours since they had found the woman, and since Morgan and Prentiss had eventually volunteered to walk her home. It wasn't like she could file an assault report on a statue.

It was, all in all, a peculiar scene. Only David Rossi could get a shipping company to pick up a randomly placed statue at four o'clock in the morning. Hotch looked over to the older man. "You know, you didn't have to pay for this thing to be sent all the way to Japan."

Dave just sent him a sideways glance, not even bothering to turn his head. "If your… friend over there says that it's the safest place to put the angel, that's where it's going."

"Where's it going to in Japan," Morgan asked. He and Emily had obviously missed that part of the discussion.

"Fukushima," Spencer replied. "There was a tsunami there in 2011. It destroyed a nuclear power plant, and the area was flooded with radiation. According to the Doctor, that form of energy can sustain the angels as well. Though, it's not quite as satiating."

"Are we sure that the place is abandoned?" J.J. asked from the other side of Hotch. "Because what's to say it doesn't start killing again once it's over there. He said these things are ruthless, right?"

"No," the Doctor said walking toward them. "This one is different." He stopped just short of the group and turned to continue watching the action. "From what I can tell, she is the _only_ Weeping Angel at this point in time and space. She's been alone for many years. Only having one's self to talk to can be quite conducive to introspection."

J.J. stared flatly at the back of the man's head. "So you're saying that the _statue_ had a change of heart?"

Prentiss turned left to face her blonde friend. "It's obviously capable of conscious thought. Is it really that much of a stretch to think that it could decide to change it's ways? That it could interpret the pain it was causing, and decide to stop?" That earned Emily a curious examination from the Doctor.

"Emily's right," Spencer spoke up from Rossi's left. "Maybe it didn't even realize what it was doing, or that humans are sentient for that matter. We were to it what animals are to us: sustenance."

"So what made it stop then?" Derek asked from Emily's side.

The Doctor turned to face the group once more. He studied them for a moment before his gaze came to rest on Emily. "Her." His head bobbed as he came to a conclusion of sorts. "At some point, survival isn't enough. One has to persevere with dignity and decency."

They all remained in silence, watching as the angel was eventually loaded into the back of the truck. Maybe some of the agents still weren't entirely convinced where the Doctor was concerned, but they all knew that this particular crisis was over. They would all have to settle for trusting the angel in its actions. It wasn't an idea that some of the F.B.I. agents were particularly fond of, but it would have to do.

The return trip to Quantico was decidedly less eventful than the happenings in the last few hours. The Doctor, Amy and Rory were all issued visitor badges in the lobby, and Hotch vaguely wondered who would take the blame when those visitors never left. It was still early, and they had about an hour before others would start to show up. Penelope met them in the bullpen, obviously running on nothing but caffeine and sugar. The group made quick work of removing the desks from around the TARDIS, sliding them back to their rightful locations.

Amy and Rory were all too ready to leave, but they took the time to politely bid adieu to each of the agents and Garcia. The Doctor had no such manners, and headed straight for his blue box. After a quick inspection, the Doctor found that everything was now in working order. It might not have been able to converse with him but when the TARDIS wanted something, she got it. He disengaged the active camouflage, and spun toward the entrance. The couple casually slid through the open door of their temporary home, and shared a confused look once they were inside. They were quite surprised that the F.B.I. would just let them hop back in their time machine and go. They were also a little startled by the Doctor practically busting them apart as he made for the door.

He stuck his head out to see the team staring on in curiosity and wonder. "Well," he said, "who's coming with me?"

**A/N: Okay, I'm not exactly happy with this ending. I didn't think this story through before I started it, and I'm afraid that was a terrible mistake. I promise to never do that again. **

**Now, I did want to leave this open-ended (although, I had wanted it to be a bit different than this turned out). These are my two favorite TV shows, and if I get another idea where they could merge, I'd like to have a viable story to build on. A future story would not contain all of the CM characters though, and probably not Amy and Rory either. That's the other thing I learned from this little adventure. It's really hard to write nine different characters into a story. **

**I'd really like to apologize if this ending is disappointing. It is to me. When I do attempt this again, I'll add a chapter to this story to let followers know.**


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